


inseparable

by erithacus



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Bulma's potty mouth, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 21:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erithacus/pseuds/erithacus
Summary: Trunks needs to plan his Capsule Corp Succession Party but he isn't doing so hot. Now his ex-best friend (who he's been in love with for years) is back but Trunks doesn't have time to reflect on what that means because his entire career depends on how well he copes under pressure.





	inseparable

Trunks really would rather be re-analyzing the data from their newest pilot project. Actually, he would really rather be doing _anything_ besides pouring over this seating chart for what felt like the hundredth hour. He had even come all the way to his parents’ house in the hopes that his mother might help him, but she had only given him her famous ‘nope’ grin and said, “Sorry Kiddo, it’s _your_ Succession party! You got this.”  
  
He’d known that he couldn’t rely on his mother for everything and they were both very aware that many of the Capsule Corp board members weren’t exactly thrilled at this modern day nepotism, but that wasn’t Trunks’ fault! He _was_ the best person for this job. He had lived and breathed Capsule Corp since the day he was born, he had his mother’s genius and his father’s tenacity. If anyone could name a better successor, he’d gladly hear it.  
  
But all the bravado in the world didn’t matter when his first duty, as the very near new president of the richest company in the world, was to plan a party.  
  
He decided to place Annabell Steele (of Steel Inc.) next to David Burner (of Big Bad Software), they were relatively young and were bound to get along, weren’t they? And if he placed the board members together, wouldn’t that make sense? If he put them all at the front table it shouldn’t be a problem. Then there were the investors and-  
  
“Trunks! Come downstairs! You’ll never guess who’s here!”  
  
Trunks rolled his eyes. He supposed he was never too old to be introduced and reintroduced to his mother’s friends. It had been his entire youth, after all. Still, he had never been able to get over the fear of meeting new people. Being toted around to parties and work functions by his mother for years hadn’t been enough to cure him of the pure anxiety that still came when he had to interact in those settings. But anything was better than the seating chart right now and he didn’t even hesitate to make his way downstairs.  
  
  
His mother’s sunny grin did nothing to stop the way Trunks’ heart leapt into his throat when he caught sight of their visitor.  
  
It had been five years but there was no mistaking that impossible hair and that shy yet cocky smile that everyone said looked just like Goku’s, but not Trunks, to him it had always been purely _Goten_.  
  
“Long time, no see,” Goten said, a small smile on his lips.  
  
Trunks tried to breathe around his heart hammering in his chest, “Yeah…”  
  
Trunks’ mom made a huge deal about Goten staying for supper and Trunks was just trying his best to act casual.  
  
It wasn’t like he thought he would never see Goten again, he just always imagined that when Goten showed up, Trunks would be over him. It’d been a shock to his system to have all those dormant emotions come rushing back in a flash. Trunks was more than a little resentful. He had spent exactly 1793 days carefully avoiding thinking about Goten, discussing Goten, wondering about Goten. So shouldn’t it make sense that he wouldn’t care about him after all this time? And yet, one small smile and Trunks was head over heels again, his stomach convulsing annoyingly as thoughts swarmed his head. Why did he come back? Did he miss me? Is he looking over here? Does he smell the same? Don’t sniff him! Fuck, Trunks hold it together.  
  
Goten was retelling one of his many tales about his backpacking adventures all over the universe. Taking odd jobs, meeting weirdos and strangely wondrous creatures. Trunks was tuning in and out. He did tune back in when his mom exclaimed, “You’re just like your father, running off to whatever new adventure is out there waiting.”  
  
Trunks’ dad made a ‘hmph’ sort of noise which was his usual contribution to any conversation.  
  
“But even your father comes back more often than once every five years, you know!” Bulma said and by Goten’s expression Trunks could tell he must have gotten the same lecture already from his own mother.  
  
“I know, I’m sorry,” Goten said sheepishly, “It won’t happen again.”  
  
“I hope so! Your mother was worried sick!”  
  
“I sent postcards!”  
  
Trunks tuned them back out again. This casual domesticity was a little much right now. Everyone had no problem welcoming Goten back with open arms, it was almost like he’d never even been away. But Trunks couldn’t do that. He couldn’t feel like that. He had felt each and every moment that Goten was away like a physical craving. The only thing that had distracted him was work.  
  
“Sorry guys, I need to get back,” Trunks said as he got up from the table.  
  
He heard the shock in his mother’s voice, “But don’t you want to visit some more?”  
  
She still had the image of them as children. So inseparable that they’d even been the same person sometimes. Well, turns out they were _very_ separable. And Trunks was determined to be fine with that from now on.  
  
“You’re the one who told me this seating chart needed to be done before the weekend.”  
  
His mother’s lips formed a pout and even though he wasn’t saying anything, he could tell that this surprised his dad too.  
  
He risked a look at Goten, but his face was unreadable, just watching as Trunks made his retreat.  
  
  
Alone in his apartment, Trunks let himself feel everything he’d been holding back at dinner. The anger, the sadness, the _longing_. He had formed about fifty different scenarios over the years for when Goten finally came back. Most of them involved yelling on Trunks’ part, some of them involved yelling on both their parts, and his favourites involved lots of kissing. But none of that had happened. Instead it’d been all icy silence and a distance between them that Trunks wasn’t sure they could ever breech again.  
  
Trunks allowed himself to be consumed by the party planning for the next two weeks. He didn’t want to think about Goten or why he came back or when he was leaving again. He needed this Succession Party to go off without a hitch and so he worked as hard and as often as he could until the big day finally arrived.  
  
  
No one needed to tell Trunks how messed up it was that he could face villains from outer space, put his life on the line for perfect strangers, he could even stand up to his dad (once in a while when he absolutely had to), but he was terrified to take even one step into the building.  
  
His stomach lurched and he felt dizzy but he swallowed it all down and went inside.  
  
His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen, “Sorry Honey, I’m going to be late! But I’m sending someone for moral support. You got this!” His stomach twisted even worse. How was he supposed to do this without his mother? And who had she- no. His heart raced. No, no, not right now. But his fears were realized as he turned the corner and Goten was waiting for him outside the banquet doors.  
  
He looked incredible in tailored pants over a navy tangzhuang that his mother had probably picked out. He looked sort of other-worldly, like maybe he wasn’t even really here.  
  
“Hey,” Goten said.  
  
Trunks’ nerves were already all over the place and the casualness made him snap, “What are you doing here?”  
  
Goten blinked at him, surprised at the out-of-nowhere sharpness, “Your mother sent me.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Goten was starting to get defensive, he frowned. “How should I know?”  
  
“So you just did whatever she asked? Just came by on a whim from my mother? Even though it’s the most important day of my life?”  
  
“What the hell is your problem?”  
  
And that would have been a perfect time to shut up, but Trunks was already on the edge of a nervous breakdown and he hadn’t vented his frustrations about this party even once. He also hadn’t shown an ounce of temper before now about just how _fucked_ it was that Goten showed up just in time to destroy Trunks’ self-esteem again right when he needed it the most. “My problem is you showing up out of nowhere like you never left in the first place! You act like you can just slip back into my life when you left-” his voice broke, “You  _left_ me.”  
  
Goten looked shocked, his eyes looked shiny, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.”  
  
Trunks wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. “Is that so?” He grinned but there was nothing friendly in it. He wanted to punch Goten through a wall.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Goten said and to his credit it did look like he meant it. But it did nothing to dull the blazing ache that seemed to reside permanently inside Trunks. It had ever since that day. Goten’s cruelty was so casual. It was like he’d pulled Trunks’ heart out of his chest and squashed it without even knowing he was doing it.  
  
“Yeah well I’ve been doing just fine without you,” Trunks said as his brain yelled at him to stop before he said something he’d regret, “So please tell my mother I’m fine and I’ll do this on my own.”  
  
He stepped into the banquet hall, letting the heavy door close behind him with Goten on the other side.  
  
He couldn’t afford to be distracted. He couldn’t think about the way Goten’s eyes had looked, like he’d been actually surprised at how hurt Trunks was, at how angry he was. Trunks needed to focus. _Focus._  
  
But his first hint that something was wrong was how very quiet it seemed to be. Not dead silent, but definitely below the level of a hundred people having a good time. His hearing was nowhere as good as Piccolo’s but he caught the middle of some conversation, people were pissed about the seating arrangements.  
  
He walked over to the nearest table. The party-goers gave him cold nods of acknowledgement, Trunks tried not to dry-heave, “Good evening, thank you so much for coming,” he gave them his most professional smile, no one returned it, “Is everything okay?”  
  
The people at the table looked at each other for a brief moment before someone finally turned back to him and said, “We were just discussing how interesting it is that Bradley and Emma are all the way up at the front despite their relative immaturity within the company.”  
  
Trunks stomach was twisting in knots. “Oh?” He hadn’t even thought of that. He had just thought maybe Bradly and Emma would get along with some of the other board members, he hadn’t thought to take into consideration what it might look like to put somebody so new so close to the front even if they _were_ title holders. “Oh… well that’s…” he didn’t have a good answer for that so he stumbled away to another table.  
  
He heard someone mutter, “And the decorations are just ridiculous.” Really? Even the part he’d had nothing to do with? That had been all his mother. The only thing she had taken on for him because he had been about to crack under the pressure if he had to look at one more streamer sample.  
  
And nobody was eating. Why wasn’t anyone eating? He took a look at the food. It had sounded good in the description he’d read but looking at it now, it looked absolutely unappetizing. Where had they ordered this from? It looked cold and old. He took a small bite and immediately spit it into a napkin.  
  
He had a sudden glimpse of his mother in his head, her disapproving look that was so much worse than his father’s. This had been a test. To see if he was ready. And he had failed. This party wasn’t about him at all, it was about seeing if he had the mental fortitude to hold this place together in her stead. He was starting to think he couldn’t. Who else could fuck up something as simple as ordering food?  
  
His phone vibrated in his pocket and eager for any kind of distraction, he fished it out. He blinked at the screen. “Sorry, we’re going to have to bail on tonight” it read. It was the entertainment he’d lined up. His heart started to pound in his chest. He had to get outside. He had to breathe some fresh air.  
  
Everywhere he looked he could see the disapproving faces of all the people he was supposed to impress. All the people who were expecting him to be like his mother, like his grandfather, like the genius billionaire who could program a robot in his sleep. But instead they were seeing a cocky young man who apparently couldn’t even throw a simple party.  
  
Trunks couldn’t take it anymore. He kept backing up, unnoticed by the throng of people having issues that were either partly or entirely his fault. He backed up until his back hit the floor-to-ceiling-window and he cracked it open enough to slip through.  
  
He found himself hyperventilating on the balcony, obscured by the soft purple curtains his mother had insisted on because they ‘matched his hair’.  
  
He was trying to concentrate on breathing so he didn’t notice when someone snuck up on him.  
  
“Wow, you’re really bad at this, huh?”  
  
It was Goten and Trunks felt vaguely like he should be embarrassed at being discovered in such a state or angry that he hadn’t left when Trunks told him to, but he really couldn’t manage anything except trying to keep breathing.  
  
Goten leaned his back on the balcony, watching Trunks.  
  
Trunks felt a little better having someone with him that he knew. Even if they probably didn’t know each other nearly as well as they once had. He still trusted Goten and he knew Goten would never tell anyone what he saw here.  
  
“I guess I always assumed you were like Bulma and throwing parties came natural.”  
  
Trunks laughed a little at that, “Nope, instead I got my father’s crippling anxiety.”  
  
Goten was quiet again, Trunks wondered if maybe he was recalcuating their entire lives. Trunks had always been the outgoing one when they were younger, but he wasn’t so much as outgoing as just trying to keep Goten entertained because Goten got bored so very easily.  
  
“So all those times we ran away during your mother’s parties, you just wanted to get away from them? It had nothing to do with your adventurous spirit and knack for mischief?” He could hear the grin in Goten’s voice.  
  
Trunks could finally breathe again, he stood up properly, “But it’s fine if you keep thinking that.”  
  
Goten grinned at him and Trunks felt like there was something behind it but he didn’t know what.  
  
“This is a disaster,” Trunks said mostly to himself but Goten snickered quietly.  
  
“You got that right,” Goten mused, “Half the people in there have no idea what’s going on and the other half think you’re out of your mind because the seating doesn’t make sense and the whole place is decked out in your own hair colour.”  
  
Trunks swallowed, “Mom said it looked cute.”  
  
“It makes you look conceited.”  
  
Trunks could feel the swelling of another panic attack. So the food was disgusting, everyone hated the tables they were at, they had literally no entertainment lined up, and now they also thought Trunks was full of himself?  
  
“What are you going to do?” Goten asked.  
  
“D-don’t ask me that,” Trunks gasped because thinking about it was making him dizzy again.  
  
It must have shown on his face because Goten took a step toward him, “Okay, okay,” he said with concern in his voice, “What do you need  _me_ to do?”  
  
Trunks shook his head, he was starting to lose his breath again. And he had sent Goten away, been so angry at him, but Goten hadn’t gone, he was here and -  
  
Suddenly Goten’s hand was on his arm and Goten was saying, “Okay listen, stay here as long as you need okay? I’m going to take care of this.”  
  
The confidence in Goten’s voice was enough to pull Trunks back off the edge of panic. But before he could think of what to say or apologize for being a massive dick, Goten was heading back inside.  
  
  
It was maybe thirty minutes later and eventually Trunks had to make peace with the fact that there was no escaping this. Not if he was ever going to fill his mother’s shoes. He couldn’t just stand out here while Goten attempted to fix his mess. And what would Goten even be able to do? Trunks had to get back in there. He had to finish this fight no matter what.  
  
He took a deep breath and took a step inside, but things were happening all around him.  
  
Goten was on the stage with a microphone and seemed to be directing people with perfect ease.  
  
“Alright, you over there? What were your numbers again? Eight? Great! Now all the people with eights stand with them. Okay, next is nine. Who has nine?”  
  
Goten was reseating everyone with a lottery system. Trunks was shell-shocked. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He had worked so hard to put people together who he thought might get along, it had been harder than a wedding seating chart, but it hadn’t worked at all. He could have skipped the whole mess if he had thought to make it a random lottery where no one would second-guess his motives or feel slighted for being at the table they ended up at.  
  
Trunks watched Goten work the crowd, making well-timed jokes and manoeuvring even the toughest of customers to aide him in his task. “What’s that? You want to change tables? Already? Well as soon as we’re done with this mess, I promise I’ll work my magic for you. But right now, would you mind helping me collect these? Thanks!” Goten’s natural charm and charisma was something Trunks took forgranted. There was a tiny sting of something inside Trunks as he realized that he had never seen Goten work his charms on anyone else before. Trunks had always known that Goten was effortlessly easy to get along with, but he had never seen it in action like this.  
  
Trunks watched Goten walk the stage with silent awe. Goten was grinning at people, patting their backs, making them enjoy themselves for the first time since they arrived. “Hey, let’s all remember to thank Bulma for the decorations later, okay? Personally I would have gone with blue, but she likes to live dangerously.” There was warm laughter at that. Trunks’ heart wanted to burst. Goten had also managed to inform everyone in attendance that the purple drapes weren’t Trunks’ own doing.  
  
The tables were completely rearranged and no one seemed to have immediate rejections except the one lady Goten had agreed to let sit at another table. The ‘tuts’ in her direction made certain no one else requested a change.  
  
There were stagehands moving everything off the stage and that was what finally caused Trunks to fully enter the room, what did they think they were doing?  
  
“Ah!” Goten got a look of him, “Our entertainment is about to start!”  
  
Everyone looked behind them to see Trunks and there were exclamations of surprise.  
  
Trunks cleared his throat and made his way to the front of the room. Stagehands were done stripping the stage down to the bare minimum. “Um, I’m-” he had been about to say something about being sorry, despite what his mother would recommend (“Never let them see you sweat! Don’t apologize for anything!”) but Goten cut him off, talking over him.  
  
“Hey! Why are you just standing there? Strip!” Goten had already taken his shoes off and was now pulling his shirt over his head. A wave of amusement and a round of applause circled the room.  
  
Trunks felt his face go white, he turned to Goten, away from the microphones and said, “What the hell are you doing?”  
  
Goten smirked at him and for a second Trunks wished that they were alone together where he could maybe admit what Goten’s smirk had always done to him. “Come on, for old times sake.” Goten whispered at him.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Sparring! Let’s show these folks what the heir of Capsule Corp can really do.”  
  
Trunks felt a rush of excitement. He hadn’t sparred with anyone in a very long time. He used to get out to see his father once in a while, but these days it was all paperwork and machinery. A part of him thought that Goten was out of his mind, but when Trunks looked out into the audience, everyone was eagerly awaiting what Goten had promised them. Maybe they just wanted to see the rich mommy’s boy get punched. That was fine, this was something Trunks could handle. It was something he could do without even thinking. Fighting was about the only thing that felt as natural to him as analyzing complicated figures. It activated the same parts of his brain. The way he felt when he was figuring out difficult engineering was the same as when he was trying to figure out how to win a fight.  
  
He loosened his tie and pulled it over his head. The crowd whooped.  
  
Facing off against Goten set all sorts of senses on fire. They were facing each other from opposite sides of the stage bare-footed and bare-chested. Trunks knew that he’d been neglecting his training but Goten didn’t seem to have missed a day. His chest was broad and his arms were thick, his muscles were defined and perfect. Trunks swallowed. And beyond that, his face still held that sweet smile that Trunks missed so much it hurt.  
  
“This is ridiculous,” Trunks said, knowing that only Goten could hear him.  
  
Goten grinned, “Everyone loves a little competition. And they’re never going to see you the same after this.”  
  
“That’s a relief.”  
  
Someone rang a bell and they met each other in the centre of the stage with a resounding crackle of power that the people in the audience could feel. They couldn’t go all out here, but it was still much more than most of their audience would have ever witnessed before.  
  
Goten sent him sprawling backward after a quick hook. And Goten was right, he could already feel the way some of them were looking at him. As if maybe he _was_ sort of competent, like maybe he _did_ have it in him to head the biggest company in the world. He was bitter that it had taken a literal punch to the face for anyone to start to see his worth. But he didn’t need to be bitter, he could take out all his frustration right here and now. He got Goten back, just as hard. This was better than venting. It was better than anything.  
  
Somewhere along the way, the feelings whirling through him changed. He knew this was Goten trying to help him but Trunks felt himself get angry none-the-less. He was angry that Goten had left him alone in the first place, had gone and done who-knew-what, _without_ Trunks. He was angry that he had worked so hard for all of this but hadn’t been able to pull it off until Goten stepped in. He was angry thinking that Goten was just going to leave again after this. Goten could do whatever he liked and it didn’t seem to bother him at all if Trunks was with him or not. Didn’t Goten know that Trunks missed him? Didn’t he know that he needed him? That he _loved_ -  
  
He stared down at were he’d felled Goten with a harsh punch that broke straight through his block. Goten was staring up at him too, like Trunks had just said all those things out loud. He’d always sort of suspected that Goten could read his mind.  
  
The audience roared to life.  
  
Their match was over and it looked like Bulma’s son was going to be able to take care of himself and wasn’t going to be pushed around by anyone.  
  
He reached out a hand and Goten took it. He hauled the other man to his feet.  
  
“What good was all that training?” Trunks smirked, “If you can’t even beat me?”  
  
Goten smirked back, “I let you win, jerk.”  
  
“Sure,” Trunks rolled his eyes, but he thought Goten probably _did_ go easy on him. He was trying to earn Trunks some respect from these people, it wouldn’t have made sense to knock him out cold.  
  
“All that’s left is the food,” Trunks sighed, trying to remember all the fast food places that delivered.  
  
“I took care of that too,” Goten grinned.  
  
Trunks blinked. “What? How?”  
  
Goten’s grin grew wider. “I did what any self-respecting adult would do,” Trunks stared at him, “I called my mom.”  
  
Trunks wanted to laugh and also cry. Chi-Chi was probably the best cook in the universe and making food for a hundred people would be no problem for someone who was used to feeding two to four Saiyans at any given time.  
  
Trunks had never wanted to kiss anybody so badly than right then. But there was still that wall in place, that distance that had sprung up between them that Trunks wasn’t even sure how to begin traversing.  
  
“Can we talk?” Goten said, eyeing the floor, “After all this is over?”  
  
Trunks swallowed, the mean things he’d said reverberated in his ears. He’d said what he had and Goten had still helped him. Trunks could only nod numbly.  
  
  
The rest of the evening fell into place perfectly. Trunks was confused at how the mood had shifted so drastically. There were no wary looks in his direction, no half-concealed snarky remarks, just some open admiration and some of the board members even came to slap his back and tell him he did a good job. He didn’t have it in him to tell them that he hadn’t done a thing and it was all Goten. But he was just desperate enough and his mother’s son enough to accept the credit. It wasn’t like Goten wanted it anyway.  
  
Bulma arrived beyond fashionably late and gave a glowing speech that brought tears to Trunks’ eyes. He knew his mother was proud of him, but he’d never heard it being spoken to other people.  
  
“I know what you old farts think,” Bulma said in closing, “That it’s just favourtism to hand over the company to my own son. But I’ll tell you, there is no one in the entire world whom I would entrust my legacy to, my entire life’s work to, other than to this young man right here. Whether he was my son or not, I would want him to continue my work. He’s going to lead Capsule Corp into a new generation and you’re all going to be damned glad you stuck by him.”  
  
With drinks well underway and half the place cleared out, Trunks was back out on the balcony. But it wasn’t to panic this time, it was to process the evening.  
  
His mother found him.  
  
“You did good, Kid.”  
  
Trunks shook his head, a small smile on his lips, “I didn’t do anything. It was Goten.”  
  
Bulma rolled her eyes, “I know.”  
  
He blinked, what did that mean?  
  
She caught the question in his eyes, “Honey, you are smart as a goddamned whip but you’re total shit at this other stuff.”  
  
He winced, “Thanks, Mom.”  
  
She laughed and smacked him on the back, “I sent him over because I knew you’d need him. If not to re-order this disaster, at least to just be supportive.”  
  
Trunks once again recalled the way he’d yelled at Goten for just being here, he hung his head, “We’re not like we used to be.”  
  
Bulma shrugged, “Who is? The important thing is you already know who you can trust. You remember the faces of those old fuckers who were willing to turn on you over shitty food. You remember the ones who are going to be trouble and you remember to never put them in positions of power where they could screw you.”  
  
Trunks gazed at her, dazed, “Is that what this was actually about?”  
  
Bulma looked absolutely maniacal as she laughed, “Yes! I needed you to see which people were worth watching and which ones were worth trusting. Same thing my old man did for me. It doesn’t do to just gossip, I wasn’t going to hand over a list of all the assholes I thought might make this hard for you. I wanted you to see it for yourself and decide what to do on your own.”  
  
“I couldn’t do _anything_ , I just sat out here while Goten fixed everything.”  
  
Bulma took a deep breath of air then she turned to him, “Listen, Babe. I know you must have gotten into it with him. No one can blame you for being angry. He was your best friend and he fucked off and never called. But I want you to remember what happened tonight. I want you to remember that he was here to pick up all the pieces when he didn’t have to be. Whatever the past, he’s here now. You can’t change the past… well,” she paused, “Let’s not go there. Just be thankful he’s back and healthy and _loves_ you.”  
  
Trunks felt his face grow hot. “He…. He loves me?”  
  
Bulma stared at him like he had just taken off his jacket to reveal he was really two mischievous kids playing Capsule Corp President. She put a perfectly manicured hand to her head like she had just gotten a sudden migraine. “I cannot believe you two.”  
  
She stormed off like she was angry with him and he watched her through the large glass windows. She grabbed Goten by the arm, pulling him away from the couple he was talking to. Trunks heard her say, “Can you please get out there and talk to my dumbass son? And if you don’t tell him, I will kick your ass myself, I don’t care if you _are_ a Super Saiyan.”  
  
Bulma shoved Goten unceremoniously out onto the balcony. Closing the window-door after him with a loud snap.  
  
Trunks wanted to go first. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. It means a lot to me that you were around to help me even after what I said.”  
  
Goten shook his head. “It’s okay. You were angry… and hurt.” He kicked his foot absentmindedly against the concrete, “I didn’t know I hurt you.”  
  
The laugh that forced its way from Trunks’ throat seemed to rip something open.  
  
That made sense, didn’t it? He had never told Goten how he felt. How would Goten have known that Trunks would be so devastated by his leaving?  
  
“I need to tell you why I left,” Goten said, still staring at the floor.  
  
Trunks thought his heart was going to stop. Goten seemed unsure, so Trunks said, “Okay.”  
  
“It was a long time ago, but do you remember Pan’s tenth birthday?”  
  
Trunks nodded but for the life of him he could not think of why that was significant.  
  
“I went into the kitchen and I heard our mom’s talking.”  
  
Trunks was starting to get nervous.  
  
“And Bulma was talking about the plans you two had made to start your training at Capsule Corp and that she was so excited for you to be taking over the company.”  
  
Trunks frowned, how was that related?  
  
“And I realized I always thought we were going to run around and be adventurous forever.”  
  
Trunks blinked, he had sort of thought that too. _But then you left_! He wanted to say, but Goten wasn’t done.  
  
“But then I realized you had this whole future ahead of you and I couldn’t get in the way of that.”  
  
Trunks didn’t know what he was feeling now. He was angry that Goten had made that call on his own, he was upset Goten hadn’t talked to him about any of this, and yet he also understood. Despite his bitterness he was strangely grateful. He had accomplished so much in these few short years and it had largely been due to Goten’s leaving. He would never be _glad_ Goten left, but he was starting to see that maybe it _had_ been somewhat thought out by the other man. If Goten had asked him to run away together, Trunks would have done it in a heartbeat. He would have forfeited Capsule Corp in an instant. Goten hadn’t let him.  
  
Trunks swallowed heavily, “You didn’t even talk to me,” Trunks said.  
  
They’d thrown Goten a makeshift going away party the night before Goten left but Trunks had been too scared and angry to confront him. If Goten wanted to leave, Trunks had thought angrily, then fine. He’d be back in a few weeks because he always got bored when Trunks wasn’t around. But a few weeks turned into a few months which turned into a few years.  
  
“You’re right, I should have talked to you. I should have told you how I was feeling. I thought I’d be back in a month. But then I kept getting distracted and I-” he swallowed, “I didn’t know you would be so upset.”  
  
“My best friends leaves with barely a word for five whole years and you didn’t think I’d be upset?”  
  
Goten squeezed his eyes shut, “No, that’s not what I-,” he sighed, “None of this was what I actually wanted to say.”  
  
Trunks crossed his arms, still waiting for an explanation that made _sense_.  
  
“You had your life all figured out and I didn’t.”  
  
Trunks felt cold. So Goten had had to go to the ends of the galaxy to find a purpose? He couldn’t have stayed and figured it out _with_ Trunks?  
  
“So did you figure it out?”  
  
“I think so.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“And I think I’m where I want to be.”  
  
“You figured that out by _not_ being here?”  
  
Goten’s face flushed, “It was actually a letter from your mother.”  
  
Trunks blinked, “My mother?”  
  
Goten scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit that Trunks had never realized how much he missed until this second.  
  
“She uh-” Goten’s face turned redder, “She wrote me a letter saying that you planned to propose to your girlfriend at your Succession Party, only-”  
  
“Only I don’t have a girlfriend.”  
  
“I knew your mom was sneaky but-”  
  
“Wait, so all I had to do to get you to come home was pretend to have a girlfriend?”  
  
Trunks didn’t think it was possible for Goten to get any redder and yet. “What I’m trying to say!” Goten was exasperated, it was nice that Trunks wasn’t the only one, “is that I realized I want to be with _you_.”  
  
The pure honestly of the statement shocked Trunks into silence. He stared at Goten, his heart pounding.  
  
“I can’t say I regret leaving because there are so many things I learned and so many things I did that I’m proud of, but I know now what I want. And it wasn’t anything out there.” Goten gave him a look that stole all the breath from Trunks’ lungs.  
  
Trunks managed to croak out, “Are you proposing to _me_ at my Succession Party?”  
  
The blush had faded from Goten’s cheeks but was replaced by a light pink as he laughed, “Maybe? Yes? It felt weirder to say, ‘let’s date’ when you’ve been my best friend for so long.”  
  
He was right, dating would be completely pointless now when they’d been in love their entire lives.  
  
“You’re going to stay? For good?”  
  
Goten grinned at him, “Yeah, I heard the new Capsule Corp President might need some help around the office. Planning, organizing, you know, the stuff he really sucks at.”  
  
“You know, I heard the same thing. I’ll be sure to pass your information along.”  
  
“I would appreciate that.”  
  
“Can we kiss now?” Trunks was impatient even at the best of times.  
  
Goten didn’t bother with a verbal reply. He wrapped his hand around Trunks’ tie and tugged him down the inch and a half to meet his lips.  
  
Goten’s hand tangled in Trunks’ hair, pulling him in close and hard. It was possessive and just shy of truly savage. Trunks’ lips felt ready to bruise but it was _so_ good. It was like every piece of distance between them was being blown away, leaving them desperate and breathless in each other’s arms.  
  
When Trunks finally, _finally_ pulled away, because basic instincts for air interfered, there was a wall of people on the other side of the glass. They were whooping and cheering even though they couldn’t hear them through the heavy pane windows. Bulma’s smile was shiny white and wide and she rolled her eyes when Trunks gave her a shy smile.  
  
There was no use in trying to have a private moment with their huge audience so they went back inside.  
  
“My baby just got engaged!” Bulma shouted and a new round of drinks were poured and a new party started. Trunks was already ready to be done. He shot a desperate, miserable look at Goten.  
  
Goten laughed and then leaned down close to whisper in his ear, “Just a little longer. Then we can get out of here and… _catch up_.”  
  
Goten gave him a look that set fire to Trunks' entire body and Trunks’ face lit up like a Christmas tree. He tried to swallow some champagne but choked on it instead. “How much longer?” he demanded, because apparently patience was never going to be one of his virtues.  
  
Goten laughed at him before turning away from him to give Trunks’ mom some kind of look that must have been perfect puppy-dog eyes because she gave a loud sigh and a big shrug and Goten grabbed Trunks’ hand. “Let’s go!”  
  
They might have done everything out of order, but Trunks was the happiest he’d ever been. New job, new/old love in his life, and a bright, bright future that he couldn’t wait to wake up to. In the meantime, they did indeed have ‘catching up’ to do and Trunks was determined to make up for each and every moment they’d spent apart. 


End file.
